Dearest 16-year-old Adriel,
Hi. You’re probably reading this letter in our room at our grandmother’s; between fits of serious self resentment. Spoiler alert: you’ll still be hating yourself in your 30s (albeit not as much, and not about your sexual orientation) – now, you and I both know that we hate lying to ourselves, so I’m just going to say it straight (pun intended). And while it doesn’t necessarily get better, there is still SO MUCH to look forward to!
You are not alone, Adriel. Don’t be ashamed of who you are. Own it! Own it (yes, it bears repeating)!!! You won’t have to marry a woman and lead a secret gay life. Your family (still crazy, by the way) will come to accept and love you for who you really are (yes, including our conservative father – who is still laughably conservative). And it’s not hard to tell that we are gay, Adriel. If one isn’t deaf, blind or, even, nose-blind, it’s glaringly obvious. But don’t get me wrong, your coming out will be far from easy. There’ll be a lot of tears, especially when it comes to our father, but it’s all good in the end. And from where I am writing this, you will be incredibly happy to know that you are in a very good place with your sexuality.
Adding to your coming out, one of the other things to be thankful about is the time you will get to spend in London for university (reading Fashion Journalism in our fashion hero John Galliano’s alma mater, I know), and then some. You don’t know it yet, but the English capital will redeem you and provide your sexual and sartorial awakenings. You will get to meet people that would go on and define your life. You’ll even get to have your own Elle Woods moment during graduation. So when that time comes, please, relish it!
And in the years succeeding that, you’ll discover an even greater love for alliteration, and realise that not only can you contextualise fashion and fragrances, you’ll also get to comment on film and even food, and ply your trade in an environment where your love for performance is truly nurtured and appreciated. You’ll also be low-key contemplating writing about fitness as a joke (but will only cross the bridge when you’re there).
Until, my next letter, be kind to yourself, Adriel. Be happy. And remember that it’s OK to trust people.
Love,
32-year-old Adriel
(PS Do not dye your own hair at age 18 and cut your hair at 30. Don’t ask.)
